Chain Smoking
by CardboardCreative
Summary: It's just the little moments that mean the world. Paige gets Chris to talk about their familial relationship. Kind of cute, I guess.


Disclaimer: **Don't own them. Just write about them.**

**Spoilers? Not really. It's set in late season 6, I guess. folks, this one is short (for once). A cute, sort of fluffy thing. A little lacking in characterization, so tell me what you think.**

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Well, here's my diary that Leo said was good to let go of my feelings in, so I'll just go through the motions of a day to get to my point (I know he just secretly wants some reading material for later). This didn't happen exactly today, as you know, but it's one of my memories. You remember, don't you?

- - -

When I woke up, I felt as if an ice-cream scoop had hollowed out my stomach. It happens from time to time. It wasn't from hunger or anything because I know that feels different. This either meant my arm would be blown off today, or something was wrong with my bowels.

Breakfast good, as usual. But Piper was depressed about Leo not being home, expressing such my ingesting a rather large amount of pickles and crying. You, Phoebe and I did our best to console her, but really, it was useless; she was probably secretly trying to beat a record for crying before noon.

From there the day held a degree of normalcy; such as being attacked by a slimy Thorove demon, you remember? He almost blew off my arm. I thanked hollow feelings in the morning quite vigorously for my being wary all day, sparing my arm.

Scarier than the demon, Piper burst into tears again, wailing about how Leo could have warned us about such danger. Believe me, kid, I was just OVERJOYED when you were finally born.

In addition to that, Phoebe didn't appreciate my fashion advice, going full frontal spazz mode. All I said was to look for a lighter shade of green to match the wash of her jeans, and I stick by it. Then Piper joined in, and began to cry about how she had bought the shirt Phoebe was wearing, so I walked out to the porch to get some air.

I swung the door shut and plopped down on the step of the porch that seemed cleanest. The night air was refreshing to breathe, and the coolness of it felt relieving to soak in. The stars didn't shine very bright, or very clearly, but it was pretty to gaze at anyways.

I took a breath, pulled out a cigarette, and lit up. At least I then placed my finger on the real reason for the feeling I had that morning: craving.

I took a few drags and rubbed my temples when the door swung open and shut again as the light scent of your cologne briefly passed. If Leo advises what amount to apply in the future, you might want to hold back a few notches.

"They've gone insane," you announced in such a sure tone I almost snorted my cigarette smoke.

You dropped down on a step below mine, and sat opposite, leaning on the rail.

"Bum me one, Aunt Paige," you said tiredly. You took a long drag and we sat there wordlessly for a few moments, staring up at the sky. You didn't seem surprised by the activity, even though I didn't do it often enough for Phoebe and Piper to know.

"You know," you began, matter-of-factly, "we do this in the future, too."

"Seriously?" I asked, smoke emerging from my mouth at the words, "That would make me… about the worst aunt alive, encouraging addiction."

"Actually, you're one of the best I know," you said sincerely, "the most understanding."

"Ah, as the youngest and most unsettled, we drew a truce and secretly allied against the rest, conning Piper out of her cookies before anyone noticed they existed," I said sarcastically, trying to imitate the narrator of trailers for the upcoming Xena episodes.

"Something like that, yeah," you laughed. I smirked, unconvinced, and lit another cigarette in the decision that tonight was better than ever to chain smoke.

"Glad I could help," I said.

"Honestly, ever since I was a kid, I felt like a second hand to the family, more so rotating around them than being in it. Something clicked with that, because you did, too. You were my best friend for the better part of my childhood."

"Well, that's- eh-" I blew smoke through my mouth in cloudy mess, flustered by the confession. "There's an unspoken hypothesis that I'd become a horrible authority figure. I was never any good at stuff like that."

"Well, you weren't a, well – yeah, you sort of were an authority figure. But really, you were just kind of… there for me. Whenever I felt left out, you always made me feel special. And at the craziest times you would find my eyes and smile or wink or something. I never felt alone. Plus, you taught me how to floss my molars without making my gums bleed."

You, too, found tonight a good night for chain smoking. I felt myself smiling, you returned a grin, and I took in a few profound drags.

"I feel… I feel like I should do those things. I will. I never had anyone to do that for me," I explained, trying to place my finger on some infinite feeling that was grazing my senses from seeing your content expression. I blame the nicotine. "Plus, we must join forces and do out part to numb the gingivitis epidemic."

You laughed, a free laugh, letting smoke blow out of you mouth at each chest heave. You looked happy.

"You got any really interesting memories of our secret alliance back then?" Or later on, whichever way the wind blows.

"No way, Aunt Paige, I've already said too much about the future, I've screwed with it enough."

"Oh, c'mon I'm getting ideas for later. Walk on the wild side for once, don't be so uptight."

That really wouldn't have gotten you, being a hard nut to crack and all. You looked me in the eyes and shifted your gaze uncomfortably, reminding me of a hardened veteran trying to conceal themselves. You always came across that way, an unnerving glimpse at future events unavoidable.

"Fine," you sighed, defeated. I smiled, got a third cigarette, and threw you one. You took a few very long and deep drags, and your eyes got kind of glassy as you began to speak.

"There is this one memory I'll never forget. It's one of those odd memories that you can remember every single, useless detail of but you don't know why? It really is. I was a really emotional little twerp. I just started grade school, and mom dropped Wyatt and I off late. She told him to make sure I got in, but found myself deserted, because that was the kind of kid Wyatt was. Anyways, when I tried the door, it was locked, with no one in the hall to help. I knew I was late and I got so freaked out about how much trouble I'd be in and how everyone would be disappointed in me… jumping to the worst conclusions.

"I started crying, really sobbing and wailing, and cussing out Wyatt. He'd forgotten his pencil case, so you orbed into the hall to return it. You saw me having my little… temper tantrum, and cast a spell to unlock the door. I swear, when I saw you… you had to have had some kind of glowing aura. You were never more beautiful to me. You had this pitying look on your face, but it was kind. You were wearing this nice smelling suede jacket that I think might have been Mom's, and you were, I think, five months along.

"At that moment… I saw… you were like an angel. I know I was a kid, and anyone in that position would be, I burst through the door and ran to you. You crouched down, pulled your arms around me, and just let me cry for a while. You told me all along that I was fine, because no one would care if I was late. And no one did."

I pursed my lips, overwhelmed that you could speak so much; you hadn't said so much in one sitting before. You took a few drags, and the glassy glint in your eye, I realized, were tears. It wasn't so big a memory, but he was young, and obviously its capacity for staying power was greater than its girth.

The stars were blurred by smog, causing a grey effect and drowning out the moon. It was ugly, but it belonged to San Francisco, swirling with pollution as it danced between invisible celestial bodies.

I recall what you said practically word for word, and see your eyes tearing up and your jaw wavering, just for the simple fact that this was you opening up. Coming back for the reasons you did, this wasn't supposed to happen. It was a rarity that would never occur again. You also grazed against the little bit that I was pregnant, you jerk; wonderful of you to let it slip. I started, but settled for preoccupying myself with my cigarette and finished it.

I sat up, crouched with my leg underneath me, and spread my arms out for you. It just seemed right. I guess out whole relationship was built on things that I just thought was right, huh?

You looked me up and down, and the tears building up in your eyes swam down your face. You looked like a child, you really did. A child that had found something that was lost that he really loved. I'll never forget your grin when you moved into my open arms. It was a swift embrace, but it settled you.

We returned into our original posts, admiring anything but each other. Realizing how awkward it was for you, and vice versa, called for a little space. The smoke from our cigarette's dismayed the view of the sky even more, burning my eyes, and I loved it.

"Thank you," You finally said.

"For what?" a smile grew on my face.

"For knowing what to do. For letting me get that out. You've always been that best. You gave me space, but watched over me. You were my friend, not my second mother. You made me feel like I belonged were I was. You didn't even turn weird after Mom died. And you know what? Thanks for now. Just here, this time, not the future. You're still and awesome aunt."

"That's nice" I murmured, not appreciating it so much as you did. I was having a high school flashback, reminded of when Glen and I used to sit out, smoke, drink, and do all the stupid things we shouldn't have done. It gave me that same feeling of freedom and security. "Yeah," I said absently, for no reason. A beat, "Pregnant, you say?"

You laughed, "Okay, now THAT'S too far!"

"Unfair!" I groaned, throwing my now obsolete cigarette on the lawn.

"Don't worry, Aunt Paige, it's a beautiful baby!"

"Now you're doing that on purpose!"

"Yes," you said with dignity. "Indeed I am taking pleasure from your torture."

I threw a pebble at you, and you just laughed even harder. "Just one last question," I proposed, and you nodded, "will I lose my trim, womanly figure during this birth?"

You were laughing so hard I thought you might choke on the smoke around us, in need of a breathing mask later. "No, Aunt Paige, you stay the same," you chuckled under your breath.

"Liar." After we settled down again, we took longer drags and happier exhales. "After you grow up, I'm still cool, right?"

You smiled in a very sincere way. "You were always more than cool. Like Grandpa, but he's different. When I grow up we do exactly what we're doing now."

I took a last drag of my cigarette and began another. "Well, what did we talk about?"

"Absolutely everything and nothing at the same time. With Grandpa, he mostly helped me after… well, _the event_. But you had a certain variety about you. I always like that. Like Glen, you talked a lot about him and you when you were kids. Gave an ending moral, too."

After a while, my once full pack of cigarettes was nearing its miserable emptiness. You noticed, frowning at the empty box. "Do you want to go the corner store and get more cigarettes? Or better yet, pizza or something?"

You'd taken the last cigarette, so I was empty handed as I glanced down at my watch. "It's almost midnight."

"So?"

"Good point."

You glanced back warily at the house, but I chuckled. "Trust me when I say they won't miss us."

We started down the road, being that a car defeated the purpose of visiting a pizza place. I hooked my arm through yours and you laughed at the contact; apparently, I'm really transparent.

"I'll tell you about Glen and I," I offered. "Stop me if you've heard it before."

"I'm all ears."

- - -

I have never had a more memorable time chain smoking in my entire life. I miss you, big Chris, but I'm going to have to wait. I'll start off with doing what I'm supposed to do now. I'll see you on the front porch in a few years.

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**So there you are. I tried to make it short and sweet. I've had this idea in my head for a while, and I needed to clean out the clutter. REVIEWS!**


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